


Salting the Wounds

by IndigoDream



Series: Bribe & Reward fics [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: (obviously, Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Transformation, Whump, merman Jaskier, the story is not, the world is canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23953453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: There is something so horrifying to walking in the woods alone, without Geralt to guide him, and with only a silver dagger by his side. The night is so dark, and Jaskier isn’t a nocturnal creature. His night sight is terrible, and he keeps getting scratches all over his body as he fumbles along, but the smell of Geralt’s blood is stronger than anything else, and he follows it. In his hand, the silver dagger is glowing slightly with the moonlight, or perhaps with the proximity to him. He isn’t a monster, Jaskier repeats to himself, he isn’t. He is… He is Jaskier. And he loves Geralt, and Geralt loves him, even if he isn’t human. So Jaskier is going to save Geralt, the way Geralt has saved him countless of times.--Geralt went to hunt a monster alone in the middle of the night, and Jaskier goes to find him. But perhaps he'll need to be saved as well. And maybe, it will turn into something much more important in the end, something that means more than just saving Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bribe & Reward fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745836
Comments: 23
Kudos: 349





	Salting the Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GonEwiththeWolveS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonEwiththeWolveS/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy this Alex <3 it's the most whumpy i could do in one day! :D

There is something so horrifying to walking in the woods alone, without Geralt to guide him, and with only a silver dagger by his side. The night is so dark, and Jaskier isn’t a nocturnal creature. Merpeople aren’t meant to be so far from the water, but Jaskier doesn’t care, because Geralt is out there somewhere, and he can smell his blood. His night sight is terrible, and he keeps getting scratches all over his body as he fumbles along, but the smell of Geralt’s blood is stronger than anything else, and he follows it. In his hand, the silver dagger is glowing slightly with the moonlight, or perhaps with the proximity to him. He isn’t a monster, Jaskier repeats to himself, he isn’t. He is… He is Jaskier. And he loves Geralt, and Geralt loves him, even if he isn’t human. So Jaskier is going to save Geralt, the way Geralt has saved him countless of times.

It takes him a good while, but he finally finds where the smell originates. He can’t see anything, but he hears the grunts of fights, and smells fresh blood.

“Geralt,” he says, at first in a whisper, but when no reaction occurs and the fighting only increases, he yells the name. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice is confused, and then suddenly Jaskier sees the large silver sword, slashing at a great shadow. “Duck!” 

Jaskier obeys, throwing himself on the ground, and something whistles as it passes over his head. He can hear a tree cracking behind him, and he almost shakes, but steels himself. He isn’t going to be a coward. Geralt needs him, he can feel it. 

“Make some light,” he yells at wherever he thinks Geralt might be. “I can’t see shit!” 

“Go back to the town,” Geralt grunts and then groans in pain as the smell of blood fills the air even more. 

“If you think I’m going to go back, you’re mistaken,” his lover growls back and crawls towards the sound of the sound. He hates land, he really, really does. Give him back scales and fins any day, he will never understand how humans can handle their fragile little bodies. “Light a fucking fire!” 

“Give me five seconds,” the witcher yells back, and there is the scream of some monster before Geralt manages to use his powers to light one of the trees with a bright fire.

The sudden light almost blinds Jaskier and he takes a handful of seconds to blink and adapt his sight to the new surroundings. The place isn’t even a fucking meadow, Jaskier wants to growl. It’s just a space between a few trees, barely large enough for the monster towering over Geralt. 

Not only towering, Jaskier notices with disgust and anger rising even more, but plunging its claws into Geralt’s torso, tearing it open slowly. Jaskier gets back on his feet in a scramble, and he doesn’t think as he throws himself at the monster, knocking it away from Geralt and into the nearest tree. Unfortunately, it means that the monster’s claws are now tearing at his own shoulders, but Jaskier has handled worst. This is nothing compared to the bite from a shark, nothing compared to the sword a mage had ran through his stomach when he had been done using him. Jaskier can handle the pain. 

He plunges his dagger into the monster’s neck, but it only bounces off, and Jaskier hates that he has no idea what kind of monster this is. He has been working on learning more about the monsters Geralt fight, he really has, but frankly, sometimes there are better activities to indulge in. Like kissing all the scars on Geralt’s body, worshipping his body and telling him how beautiful he is. That’s one hell of a good activity. 

“Geralt,” he grunts, still struggling with the monster. “Any tips you could give me? I’m a bit short on what I’m supposed to do right now!” 

“The mouth!” Geralt groans, slowly getting up, and more blood seeps out of him, Jaskier can smell it. It makes him want to puke. 

“What about it? It’s a pretty big mouth, I noticed!” 

“Stab it in the mouth,” Geralt groans again, dragging himself closer, relying on his silver sword. “It’s the only weak point in the whole damn thing!” 

The creature yowls as Geralt slashes at it, cutting down one of the large, insect like, arms that’s clawing at Jaskier. The monster is pinned to the tree by Jaskier’s inhuman strength, but the bard is starting to falter. It’s too much at once, when he hasn’t been in the sea for so long, for over six months, when his body can’t draw strength from the water and— 

He falls down, collapsing on the ground as the monster bites down at his already torn shoulder. He can’t help the yell of pain, the overwhelming feeling of fear and terror that invade him. His silver dagger falls to the ground, and suddenly he is just struggling with his hands against the monster, pushing at its jaws and claws while trying to kick him. _Stupid legs_ , he thinks. If he had his tail, at least he could wrap it around the monster and crush it, but here, on land, he can’t do anything but pray he won’t die like this.

“Jaskier,” Geralt shouts, and there is the sound of something being tossed. 

Geralt’s silver sword falls down heavily next to Jaskier, and he scrambles to reach for it. It burns him when he catches it by the blade, burns and cuts, but he bites his lips to keep the noises of pain within. Geralt doesn’t need to know right away. Finally, Jaskier manages to grasp the handle of the Witcher’s sword, and with a groan, he drives it through the monster’s mouth, deep into its brain. 

Jaskier suddenly understands better why Geralt is always covered in monster guts. When he slides the sword out, blood comes gushing on him, and he sputters in disgust, scrambling to get away from the dead monster’s carcass. His body thrums with pain and adrenaline, but he is more worried about the tilting Geralt walking towards him, his face contorted in so much pain that Jaskier can almost feel it. 

“Jaskier,” he rasps out, and then he falls down on his knees. 

Jaskier is at his side in an instant, and pushing at the wounds lightly to avoid more blood falling down. The sun’s rising slowly, the light of the morning only made more vibrant by the fire catching on every tree. They need to get out of here. 

“Stay with me,” Jaskier orders, and slowly lifts Geralt in his arms. It’s a strain to wear a nearly-passed out witcher and his very, very heavy swords, but Jaskier uses the last bits of his strength to carry Geralt away from the burning scene. His muscles burn, and he can feel his own blood staining his shirt and doublet, but he is more concerned about the amount of blood loss Geralt is experiencing. Soon, there won’t be any blood left within Geralt. 

Finally, they reach the place where Geralt had left Roach and his potions, and Jaskier puts down his lover as delicately as he can, making him sitting up slowly against a tree. It still elicit a groan of pain from Geralt, but Jaskier needs to find the potion that will stop the bleeding. Geralt had taught him what to look for and what Jaskier could give him if he was unconscious for any reason, but right now, panic makes his brain empty.

He grabs the bag of potions Geralt keeps at his side and carefully empty it on the ground, rummaging through the potions and the names of them stuck to the side. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Which one is it, I can’t fucking remember!” 

“Kiss,” Geralt rasps out. 

“Right now is not exactly the right time darling, but once you’re all patched up I’ll give you all the kisses you want!” 

“No, the potion,” Geralt coughs slightly, blood coating his lips. “The potion’s name is Kiss.” 

“Oh!” Jaskier feels like an idiot, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He grabs the red potion and quickly brings it to the Witcher’s lips, helping him drink it. 

From then on, the stench of blood in the air remains the same as Jaskier bandages up Geralt with his own spare clothes. He doesn’t have anything else at hand, and he doesn’t really care that this doublet was a gift from this or that lady; Geralt is more important than anyone else. 

The calming motions of bandaging the wounds help Jaskier clear his mind and calm down. The throbbing pain in his shoulder and ribs makes his hands shake, but he is determined to care for Geralt first, make sure that he will be fine before he can even consider a way to patch his own self up. 

He gets back to the potions and finds Swallow, the one that will help Geralt heal faster, and he is so thankful that Geralt had agreed to teach him this. He wants to be able to help, as much as he can, as much as Geralt will allow him to. He makes Geralt drink that potion too, soothes his lover’s forehead with a gentle kiss, and then keeps going. 

Helping Geralt on Roach is another affair however. It tears at his own wounds, but Jaskier doesn’t say anything doesn’t complain. He can take the pain, he just needs to get to the water, to the nearest body of salted water. Maybe a freshwater pond or river would work as well, but Jaskier isn’t willing to risk it. So he pushes Geralt on the horse, gets behind him, and tells Roach to start her gallop. 

The mare is more intelligent than many people give her credit for, because she takes off in an instant, and he doesn’t even have to steer her towards wherever he thinks the water is. She knows, it seems, and she only stops galloping to trot. She eats the apples he feeds her when they stop, whenever Geralt needs an extra dose of the potion. Jaskier doesn’t know if Geralt can overdose on that stuff, but he doesn’t really care. As soon as they are in the sea, it will all be better. They just need to push a little further, a little more. 

The salted wind hits him on the third day after that awful morning. He is getting weaker and weaker, holding onto a slightly feverish Geralt who only wakes up to eat and drink whatever Jaskier feeds him. The sea is close by, the sea will heal Jaskier and then— Then he will save Geralt, make sure that the witcher will be fine, because his love can’t die. Jaskier won’t allow it. No matter what’s the cost of it, Jaskier will not allow Geralt to slip away from life, not like this, not now, not _ever_. 

The closer they get to the sea, the drier Jaskier’s skin gets. It’s always like this, his body reacting to that desperate need that grows more and more tumultuous the closer he gets to his home. It will never be quite the same appeal as it would be if he ever returned to Lettenhove’s coast, where his family lives, where he was born. He is not welcome there anymore though, not since he wished his fins and tails away on his eighteenth birthday to see the land surrounding their home. They had left him to die when he had come back, when a shark had bitten so deep into his skin and scales that he had felt death. And then, when the mage had healed him, he had been so thankful, he would have given himself away. And he did. The mage had taken scales and bits of his fins, had torn away his claws, and then, when he had deemed Jaskier useless, he had pushed a sword through his stomach and left him to die in the middle of a forest. If it hadn’t been for Geralt, Jaskier would be dead.

Jaskier intends to not let Geralt’s gift be wasted. 

Roach crouches when they reach a deserted beach, and Jaskier falls from the horse, his body heavy as his knees collide with the harsh rocks. Just a few meters more, just a few more minutes, and everything will be alright. Seawater will heal everything. He struggles to get Geralt off the horse, though the man falls in his arms once it’s done. His eyes flutter open slightly, and Jaskier caresses his cheek. 

“It’s alright, my love, it’s all going to be alright.” Jaskier talks gently as he helps Geralt stumble to the water, making him sit in it. “Wait for me here, alright?” 

He runs back to Roach and takes everything off her back and gives her every last bit of food they have. 

“Here you go girl,” he tells her, petting her muzzle. “Have yourself a treat. Go find yourself some water too, it’ll take a little bit.” 

He doesn’t doubt that she understands him, so he simply undresses quickly, getting fully naked and trying to not move his wounds too much, but it’s nearly impossible. He kisses Geralt tenderly on the forehead, murmurs to him he will be right back, and then he dives into the ocean. 

The water is cold to his human body at first, but steadily, his body changes. It starts with his legs splintering and breaking to form back his tail, and that always hurts, always makes him yell and rage, but it’s a momentary pain that he learned to accept. Right now, as his tail slowly reappears, it’s nothing compared to the pain of his shoulder, throbbing with infection. His magic takes a while to come back, takes some time to be active, so he waits as his hands are stuck together again, as a thin membrane link each of his fingers together and his claws grow back. His mouth widens, makes place for larger teeth and fangs that can tear flesh easily. His eyes round up again, and he feels the light of the surface calling out to him. He can’t go up though not yet. His fins break through his skin, the wound instantly healed, and then… Then his magic turns to the wound. 

It’s like being split apart once again, and Jaskier yells as the infection is ripped away from the wound, as blood spills into the sea and slowly, ever so slowly, the wound is closed again. He hates magical healing nearly as much as he hates human healing. The scars aren’t worth it. 

When it’s done, he swims as fast as he can back to a dazed Geralt, who is slowly emerging from his fever. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” Jaskier murmurs and kisses him, a bit awkward in this form with his fangs and teeth in the way, but the tenderness remains the same. “I’ll take care of it… I’ll take care of you. You just have to trust me.” 

“Trust you…” Geralt whispers and his head falls on Jaskier’s shoulder. “I trust you…” 

That’s all Jaskier needs. He knows he isn’t supposed to do what he intends to do. He isn’t even sure if he will be able to do what he intends to, but nothing will stop him. Not the gods, not nature, not the laws of magic. Jaskier will kill anyone who tries to stop him. 

He drags Geralt deeper into the water, holding him tightly. He doesn’t know if Geralt will forgive him, doesn’t know if this will be what will make the witcher leave him finally, but he is willing to try. If Geralt is alive after this, that’s all that matter to Jaskier. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly in Geralt’s hair, and places his hand over Geralt’s mouth and nose before dragging him underwater. 

It won’t take long for Geralt’s last breath to emerge, but it pains Jaskier to see the man he loves trying to fight him, weakened as he is. Then, Geralt’s eyes cross his, and he stills. He stops fighting, and there is something tender in his eyes. He nods, and lets Jaskier hold him like that. 

Jaskier can feel Geralt’s last breath when it builds in his throat, is made to capture it, he is a monster too after all. One that usually is killed by witchers. He uncovers Geralt’s mouth, and before his last breath can leave him, Jaskier leans in and captures his mouth in a tender kiss. There are two kisses a merperson can give around the last breath of someone, and Jaskier has to be careful not to devour Geralt’s soul, not to trap him and kill him that way. Instead, he has to focus on the giving rather than taking. He gives his own breath to Geralt, mix their souls together and fuse them until Geralt’s soul change and his body has to accommodate the change. It’s not the longest kiss they have shared, but Geralt is colder than death, and Jaskier is afraid. 

When his lips finally let go of Geralt’s, he waits anxiously. It can take up to three hours to work, and he won’t know if it has until then. Nothing happens immediately. Geralt simply floats, eyes closed, his hair slowly dancing around. He floats in a bubble of magic, and Jaskier can only hope it means that it’s working. He wants to remain with him, but he knows that if he waits around anxiously, it will simply be worse for him.

So he busies himself, catching fish and feeding on their flesh. He has gotten used to the delicious human foods, to the luxury of their palates, but fish is good too. Fish and seaweed are the only things that he can digest anyway, in this form. So he feeds himself, and when he comes back, the bubble is glowing a bright golden, and Geralt is yelling. His legs are breaking and fusing together, and Jaskier remembers that first time he had gone back to the water. It had been the worst pain of his life. Before the shark that had arrived an hour later, anyway. 

He wants to go inside the bubble, to comfort Geralt, to tell him the pain will be worth it, but he can only swim nervously around it as his lover screams and tosses as the fins and tail emerge, as his teeth and eyes change. His eyes are still so golden but they are slightly larger now, and the fangs that poke out of his mouth are enormous and— he is so much larger than any merperson Jaskier has ever seen. And then the magic heals the wounds, and Geralt yells, shouts so much louder, his voice raw and his body thrashing in ways it should never be able to do. 

_What has Jaskier done?_

And then it all stops. Geralt stops moving, his skin is marred by new scars, but his bright, golden eyes are focused on Jaskier, and the bubble slowly stops existing. Jaskier is afraid when Geralt tries to swim, when he moves closer and he shifts slowly. It’s clearly not as natural to Geralt as it is to Jaskier, so the bard keeps to himself his fear and comes closer. 

“Here, let me help you,” he tells Geralt, hesitating to touch him. “I’ll bring you back to land and you’ll shift back and you can forget all about it and—“ 

“I don’t want to,” Geralt rasps out, seems surprised that he can speak underwater as well, but then he looks down at the beautiful white and golden tail that starts from his lower torso, and shakes his head. “What happened?” 

“You were so badly wounded, and Kiss and Swallow weren’t doing enough, and… I knew no healer, mage or human, would be able to heal you… I… I gave you half of my lifetime, so that you may live again.” 

Because that is where the problem lies, for any merperson. They cannot turn everyone. Jaskier is not immortal, and by saving Geralt, he gave him his own breath of life. Geralt will live longer than humans, longer than even witchers are supposed to, but he will die at some point, and so will Jaskier. Perhaps, Jaskier’s death will come sooner. Although, he is younger than Geralt, by a few decades at least but… He is the older merperson now and… He shakes the thought out of his head. 

“It was the only way to heal your wounds Geralt, I’m so sorry, I should have asked you but you were dying and—“ 

Geralt kisses him, the movements a bit jerky and definitely less controlled than he would be on land, but the passion and love is still there. Jaskier kisses him back, despair and love pouring as he clings to Geralt. He can’t cry in this form, but he definitely would be if he could. 

“You saved my life,” Geralt groans, kisses him again, and stays close to him. “You saved me, and gave me half of your life. Aren’t we lovers, haven’t we sworn already to be with one another until death itself came to part us?”

The wedding vows that they had softly whispered to one another a few months ago make Jaskier blush brightly, despite the fact that it is harder for him in this form. 

“We have but because of me—“ 

“Thanks to you, I’m alive. I don’t care that I’m a merman too. You’re beautiful, and I love you as a merman. I don’t care how I survived. I care that we are alive, and together. You hear me?” 

Jaskier looks into his eyes, makes sure that he is saying the truth, and then cuddles up against him. “I couldn’t live without you.” 

Geralt’s arms close around him. “I couldn’t live without you either, my heart.” 

Terms of endearments are so rare coming from Geralt that Jaskier can only hold him tighter. There will be time later, time to teach Geralt and to show him how to alternate between both forms. 

There will also be time later for laying down on the beach, for Geralt to kiss up and down his body and to worship him. Time for Jaskier to do the same. 

They have all the time in the world, but for now, they enjoy the fact that they are alive. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yall enjoyed it!! It was written as motivational whump for the best mod on the Geraskier Midsummer Minibang (come check us out on tumblr! We are still accepting betas and artists [i think?]). Now I have to actually finish my minibang fic lmao 
> 
> Leave a kudos or a comment, they make my day :D


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